Green Foliage
by Gemenied
Summary: Boyd has a big problem coming to terms with a crime scene they see. Grace gives him what he needs. - Episode add-on to "Waterloo"


**Title**: Green Foliage

**Rating**: T (nothing in the story, but serious episode topics)

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Waking the Dead or anything associated with it (except my dvds). I don't make money from this.

**Spoiler**: "Waterloo" pt. I

**Summary**: Boyd has a big problem coming to terms with a crime scene they see. Grace gives him what he needs.

**A/N**: Thank you to Joodiff for texting me the screen cap that sparked this story. Just a little atmosphere and thought exploration for the scene. Many thanks to ShadowSamurai83 for the beta!

Enjoy!

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**Green Foliage**

Him.

The air is too tight in the cellar, making him feel claustrophobic. It's all too much: too much information, too much evidence, too much imagination. He knows none of these boys were Luke, yet his mind runs away with him and that's what makes his throat tight and his knees weak.

The place is beginning to swim before his eyes and with the last shred of self-control, he dashes outside where he gulps in large breaths of air.

It's not helping, feels as if the humidity and the green leaves before him are closing in on him. Neon points and cringles are dancing before his eyes and he isn't sure he can stay upright. It's all too much.

This is his last case, by his choice, and yet it is so much more than he bargained for. Every step he takes reminds him of Luke, every paper he picks up and reads, every word one of his colleagues says. All leads back to Luke, and it has little to do with the picture Grace has painted him two days ago. She didn't need to and a tiny part of him resents her for it, but in a way he's grateful, nonetheless.

He isn't sure he can get through this case with his mind and body still intact. His soul is an entirely different dimension.

It doesn't get better, his chest is constricted, the air suffocates him. How can anybody do this to another person, half-grown boys no less? Torture, sexual abuse, just to get his rocks off at their fear and pain and suffering. It seems impossible to imagine that such monsters still exist, but after a good ten years in the CCU, Boyd knows that it is so.

Still, it shocks and shakes him to his core, makes for shivers up and down his spine and the bile rising in his throat. He wants to retch, howl to the winds, anything to get rid of this oppressive feeling.

It's a shaky breath he draws, a herculean effort not to crumble, when he feels somebody approaching. He can guess, but not be sure who it is, but it doesn't matter, because none of them should see him break down. He's said too much already, shown too much emotion, and it doesn't help.

The hand on his back is tentatively placed there, as if unsure of its welcome. He bristles a little, though more out of habit than real displeasure. The hand is small and the touch familiar. Its warmth spreads through the material of his suit and shirt, even through his skin and bones until it touches his heart and warms him.

Instinctively he leans into the touch, just a bit, so that he won't appear too needy, but at the same time not to hurt her with perceived rejection. If there's anybody Boyd wants to have close to him in this situation, it is Grace.

They stand there in the overgrown yard, both facing the green leaves before them, both of them silent. There's little to say, little they could say to make this better. She's already done the most she could do for him and he's already done enough to show her it's appreciated. They don't need the words anymore, quite possibly haven't needed them for years.

It's what it is and it will be, when the case is over and their current life situation will turn into something else entirely. In the quiet solitude of after hours away from the office, he's told her as much, though neither thought it would come this quickly.

Therefore, it isn't that surprising that she's standing here with him, her small hand gently and unobtrusively placed against his shoulder for just a moment of silent support.

Maybe that's why he's immediately concerned when she withdraws her hand and turns away. He's attuned to her, very much so, and therefore notices the change in her posture and attitude when he follows her movement. Grace is more than capable to stand her ground and fight anybody to the bitter end, she just generally chooses a much less aggressive approach to conflicts. If she tenses up, her body radiating protective aggressiveness, it naturally catches his attention and incites his worries.

He turns as well and finds himself confused at the sight. It's Sarah, having stepped out of the building, and if her expression is anything to go by she's both uneasy and hopeful. The other Superintendent is usually not that cowed, most certainly not by Grace, whom she seems to see as a pushover, bowing to his every whim, at times. He doesn't like that attitude in the younger woman, but he thinks they have made some headway into team building, so it comes as a surprise to see Grace being so hostile.

Even more surprising is the fact that Sarah gives up first under Grace's unforgiving stare and turns away. He notices, of course, but it doesn't register very much on his radar that's still too deeply shaken by the crime scene. Eve and Spence have followed outside, looking at him both expectantly and with sympathy in their posture. Boyd notices that as well, but pushes it aside too.

There's no time for emotions now, not more than he's already allowed, and therefore he starts giving orders, blabbering something about a crime scene that needs to be processed, dismissing Eve's concerns, anything, everything just to get on with it, to push past the emotions and the bile in his throat and the shaking knees.

The team doesn't ask questions, doesn't stop to demand an explanation. None of them doubts the validity of his hunch anymore, all of them feel the need to bring justice about. Which is good, very good for his equilibrium.

They disperse without hesitation and he still gulps down deep breaths, almost pants and despite the rapidity of his words, the breathlessness does not come from them.

The lawn is empty in seconds and once again it's only Grace remaining with him. Silent she stands, waiting quietly until he has calmed down enough to actually be able to process any of the things they have seen and he has imagined.

He grimaces and she grimaces back.

It's all he's capable of and she gives him that. A few minutes to gather himself with only the bushes and the trees and the old building that has seen such horrors as witnesses.

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Her.

It shocks her, though she should know better. In fact, she does know better. Numerous papers and several books, endless case studies over a career that has spanned over thirty years account for the fact that she thought she has seen it all. In fact, she has seen it all, but perhaps that's part of her professional success that she's never lost the humanity, never lost the stubbornly optimistic and positive outlook on life and people, that such a crime scene can still shock her.

The devices of torture and abuse are numerous, both creative and inventive, though not new, and the professional in her absorbs the information like a sponge. The case analysis is both textbook and material for a new textbook, but underneath it all, Grace fights to hold herself together.

There's been a little too much over the last few days, dissolution of the unit and thus redundancy or retirement looming and if that isn't bad enough, they are now dealing with a highly emotive case of streetboys having been kidnapped and abused before they were murdered. She knows it rings a little too close to home for Boyd and that worries her.

She keeps half an eye on him all the time, while they explore the cellar, sees him lagging behind, more hesitant than he's ever been. And then he's rushing from the building, disappearing into the fresh air, where he can probably breathe easier. The walls are closing in on them all, but for him the sights and the images they create must be a lot worse. Before she thinks more about it, Grace follows him outside, barely a few steps behind.

As she comes close, she can see how pale he is, doesn't need to ask to know that his knees are shaking and his skin is clammy. He's such a strong man, but even he has his limits, and she's made it her task to notice them and counteract. The real change is that he accepts it now.

Therefore, Grace doesn't hesitate to gently place her hand on his shoulder and through the material of his clothes, she can feel that he shakes. A knot forms in her throat and tears burn there for a moment, but she swallows them down. They won't help and he won't appreciate the attention they draw.

They stand for a moment, her hand on his back, both of them facing the greenery before them. They don't speak, any word would be inane now.

It's their moment of privacy, to regain their equilibrium. It can't last long, so she drops her hand, before it settles. What people will witness is only a harmless gesture of friendly support, not what it really is.

Sensing another presence Grace turns and immediately her defences are up. Arms folded protectively and defensively across her middle, she glares at Sarah, who dares to invade their privacy.

Eve would have been alright. Spence would have been alright, but Sarah is an intruder. More so now that her treachery is known to Grace. It will be a long time before she forgives, even longer before she forgets; understanding will never happen.

Sarah realizes that, it seems, for she quickly falters under the penetrating stare and looks away.

Naturally, Boyd notices the sudden tension between the two women. He gives her a questioning look, but doesn't pursue the issue for the moment. It's not the end, of course, but it doesn't rate high on his level of awareness for the moment. There's still too much else and it's obvious in his rapid words, stumbling over each other, as he declares the crime scene and orders the team about to do their jobs.

They heed to it without question, Eve's interruption pushed aside and not pursued. Even Sarah, seemingly affected, just falls into motion of what needs to be done.

Grace can find little comfort in the fact, but it's not here and now, if she doesn't want to explain her sudden hostility.

Within a few moments, they are alone again on the lawn, Boyd ambling aimlessly in front of the derelict building. He hasn't found his footing again, doesn't know where he fits into the investigation. He hasn't found his balance yet, not completely, though she can see that he's getting there, while he carves out the professional path on which they'll proceed.

She checks their surroundings, the greenery that seems dead in its own way and grimaces. Boyd grimaces as well and in that short second they come to the understanding they need.

For the moment.

She crosses the distance until she leans against the wall and looks at him expectantly. He's playing aimlessly with bits and pieces of the walled up window, but she can be patient, a lot more than he ever will be, and so she waits.

Waits and gives him what he needs.

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Thank you for reading. Comments would be greatly appreciated.


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